


My Life, My love, My Melinda May

by nightsisterkaris



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsisterkaris/pseuds/nightsisterkaris
Summary: The second the last lock was clicked closed, Phil dragged himself over to Melinda's form as quickly as he could. There was blood. And a lot of it. Her face alone was cut and slashed more times then he could count, and Melinda's silky dark hair was matted with blood. Whoever had done this to her had cut her jeans off as well, not caring as they ran the cutting tool down her thigh.Melinda's shirt was torn to the point of exposing her bruised breasts, and the fabric hung from her broken frame. Phil focused on the four gunshots to her thighs, one of the bullets nearly missing the scar from the bullet wound from Bahrain. Gashes ran down her arms and side, obviously preformed with a dull point... maybe a screwdriver?





	My Life, My love, My Melinda May

When Phil opened his eyes, he realized that he was not in a SHIELD base. Unless SHIELD had grey concrete rooms, iron bars over the grate, no windows, and a single dim lightbulb. And there was a little drain in the corner that he didn't want to know the purpose of.

He was chiained to the wall like a dog, and the air was stale and putrid. He was captured. Great. 

There was another set of chains mounted on the wall beside him. Little drops of dried blood spattered the ground beneath them.

Phil hardly noticed it when the room around him quake slightly, and then gain strength. Daisy! He thought, until the earthquakes ceased and then a faint scream filtered through the dense concrete. 

Wherever he was, the people who had him had Daisy too. 

The harsh scrape of rusty metal and a painful shriek came from the door as someone began to undo the locks from the outside. The door was pushed open with an awful groan, and two large men in ski masks dragged in a body.

It took Phil two seconds to realize it was his love.

Melinda May.

His Melinda May. 

The men let Melinda's bare legs drag against the rough floors, pulling her along behind them by her arms and hair. Phil watched in horror as they lifted May up enough to chain her against the wall, next to him. 

"Boss said that you're tomorrow. Som'in about see'in this lady like this wud'be torture enough." One of the men spat at Coulson, and lead his companion back out the door, pulling it shut with a loud, deep clang. 

The second the last lock was clicked closed, Phil dragged himself over to Melinda's form as quickly as he could. There was blood. And a lot of it. Her face alone was cut and slashed more times then he could count, and Melinda's silky dark hair was matted with blood. Whoever had done this to her had cut her jeans off as well, not caring as they ran the cutting tool down her thigh. 

Melinda's shirt was torn to the point of exposing her bruised breasts, and the fabric hung from her broken frame. Phil focused on the four gunshots to her thighs, one of the bullets nearly missing the scar from the bullet wound from Bahrain. Gashes ran down her arms and side, obviously preformed with a dull point... maybe a screwdriver?

She must have been in so much pain, he thought, Reaching up to tentatively touch her cheek. "Oh god. Melinda, are you alright?" he begged, carefully pulling her injured body onto his lap. "Why is it always you?" He asked nobody, taking comfort in the tiny sounds of Melinda's breathing. 

Come on, May. Wake up. He thought, swiping the hair from her eyes. She weakly moved, pulling her shaking arms to her chest in a defensive position. "Hey, Melinda, It's me." Phil told her.

May hummed in an attempt at anger, and groaned with pain. "You smell like Phil." She moaned. Coulson lightly laughed, "So thats how you identify me?"

Melinda nodded softly. She slowly regained consciousness, her breathing becoming steadier. "Are you okay?" Phil asked.

"Yeah." Melinda winced.

"I'll take that as a 'no'." Phil told her, referencing to her injuries. "God, Mel, what did they do to you?"

"Tried to get me to talk-" Melinda sighed, her face clenching with pain. "-'bout SHIELD."

"Melinda..." he frowned, pulling her up with painstaking care into a sitting/leaning position.

"Hush. I was trained for this." May muttered.

"That doesn't mean that you should have to use that training." Phil responded, catching May's arm when it slipped.

Melinda still hadn't opened her eyes, but when she did, they were almost swollen closed. Phil tried to smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but it was hard to smile with her in this much pain. "Im going to try to treat some of these wounds." Phil said, squinting in the dim, grey light of the room. 

Moving Melinda to the side, he first addressed the gunshots to her leg, taking off his suit jacket and ripping the seams to remove the sleeves, using the fabric to wrap around her leg and hopefully stop the blood loss. Once he was done, Phil tried his best to clean the cuts on her arms and sides, but while he was working, the locks on the cell door started clanging as they were unlocked. Phil was forced to abandon his progress and move Melinda off him so that the guards wouldn't react negatively.

"Boss told us to be hospitable." One man growled, walking in as the door was pushed open. He dropped a tray on the concrete ground, and marched out as soon as possible. Picking up the tray, Phil shuffled back over to Melinda, frowning at the provided 'supper'. None of the food was suitable to eat, much less appetizing.

He was relieved when he noticed that the seal on the water bottle hadn't been broken, and he opened it without a thought.

Phil lifted May's head up so that she could take a few sips, keeping it slow. "That better?" he asked, and Melinda nodded. Phil took a small drink himself before screwing the lid back on the bottle. "Im gonna finish up on those cuts." Phil told her. "And you should get some rest."

Melinda agreed quickly, and allowed him to clean what he could with some of the water from the bottle, concentrating hard to see in the dim light. He uncomfortably attended to a decent sized gash on her breast, hoping that she didn't think that he was invading her personal space. But it wasn't like he hadn't seen them before...

At some point, she called his name, waiting for him to answer. "Sorry, is that hurting?" He asked her, loosening the make-shift bandages. "No, I just needed to hear your voice." Melinda told him. So Phil began a running commentary on his progress, keeping her steady.

Melinda was asleep by the time Phil finished, and he situated her against him, one arm wrapped around her to let her know he was still there. Once he was satisfied with her mostly-even breaths, he soon followed her lead, and was asleep as well.

-:x:-

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Melinda thrashed against him in the dark, waking Phil up.

"Woah. you okay?" he asked her, unable to see her in the dark. He could feel her gripping his arm, holding tight. "Hey, they aren't here." 

Melinda quieted, but he could hear her heavy breathing. "Its alright... for now." Phil told her, taking her hand, "Im here, May. Its alright."

Melinda panted, pulling herself up, hissing through the pain of moving around and probably breaking a few scabs. "No one is going to hurt you right now, love, its going to be okay." he promised, soothing away the nightmare. 

"You're warm," Melinda whispered, and burrowed herself under his arm. 

Phil lightly laughed, and whispered, "But you know, my Melinda May scares away the cold." He joked.

"Well, right now, she isn't doing a very good job." Her muffled response made him smile.

"Thats alright." Phil told her. "Because you know what my favorite part of that sentence was?" She grunted a 'what?' 

"My favorite part was the 'My Melinda May'." He whispered. 

"Uh-huh." She agreed, slowly drifting back off. 

 

-:x:-

The next time they woke, Yo-Yo and Mack were busting them out.

"Hey, May, you alright?" Mack asked, using his axe-gun to break the lock on the chains that held Coulson and May captive.

"She can't walk." Phil told them, and Melinda rolled her eyes. "Ill be fine." She sighed.

Mack leaned down to help May up, but Phil leapt up, and Melinda rolled her eyes again as Phil insisted on being the one to help her, then smiled, remembering what he had whispered to her the night before; "You're my life, my love, my Melinda May."


End file.
